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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25396786">Restorative Justice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasienda/pseuds/Kasienda'>Kasienda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chloe Marinette have words!, Chloé Bourgeois Knows, Chloé Bourgeois Redemption, Dealing With Trauma, Gen, Group Identity Reveal, Group Therapy, Healing from trauma, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, No Action, POV Chloé Bourgeois, Season 3 Spoilers, They literally sit in a circle and talk (or yell) about their feelings, hashing it out, lots of talking, restorative justice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:08:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,357</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25396786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasienda/pseuds/Kasienda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloé has never been a fan of Ms. Bustier’s community building activities. In fact, she detests them. She doesn’t want to learn about the drab boring lives of her peers. And she absolutely can’t stand it when their confessions make her feel things. Feelings that she doesn’t even have names for. But when Adrien unknowingly shares his struggles with his double life, Chloé vows she will do anything to get Ladybug set things right. Even if it means pissing off the heroine. Chloé was already mad at her anyway.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste &amp; Chloé Bourgeois &amp; Alya Césaire &amp; Marinette Dupain-Cheng &amp; Nino Lahiffe, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir &amp; Chloé Bourgeois, Chloé Bourgeois &amp; Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>218</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Community Circle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagansjagger/gifts">sagansjagger</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Restorative justice is a theory of justice that emphasizes repairing the harm caused by criminal or bad behavior with the goal of healing the community rather than punishing the perpetrator. Strangely enough, Restorative Justice tends to work better the worse the crime is, and is less effective for smaller infractions. </p>
<p>Restorative justice practices can take many forms. In the classroom, it is often implemented in a structure that is good for handling a lot of speakers - the restorative circle, where affected parties meet to acknowledge the harm they caused and experienced, and address each other’s needs. </p>
<p>Community circles are a proactive piece of restorative justice as it can be implemented within the classroom. Community circles are a chance to build strong relationships within the community so that there’s something to repair when harm is eventually done. </p>
<p>If you would like to learn more about restorative justice - <a>here</a> is a short explanation, and <a href="http://restorativejustice.org/restorative-justice/about-restorative-justice/tutorial-intro-to-restorative-justice/#sthash.Tr6iBlgO.lUlPCgev.dpbs">here</a> is a longer one.</p>
<p>Community Circle Norms and Guidelines<br/>1. Speak with Respect<br/>2. Listen with Respect<br/>3. Speak your truth<br/>4. Respect the Talking Piece<br/>5. Honor privacy<br/>6. Be present</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For Cass. </p><p>Thank you for listening, for sharing, and for your neverending patience.</p><p>--</p><p>Special thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunny7799/pseuds/Bunny7799">Bunny7799</a> for betaing this chapter for me! She is the sweetest! She is also writing a fantastic story about Adrien dealing with sexual assault from Lila. AMAZING! <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22149733/chapters/52872685">Check it out here!</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The morning could not have gone better for Chloé Bourgeois. She had a new outfit that flaunted her form and matched her bee themed jewelry perfectly. The house staff had been incredibly complimentary of her assemble, the chef had made her favorite breakfast, and Sabrina had greeted her with her favorite coffee upon her arrival, which she had enough time to savor because her driver had hit all the green lights on the way to school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she walked into the classroom and every muscle in her body went rigid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The normal rows of desks had been disassembled and reorganized into a circle of chairs around a decorative centerpiece cluttered in silly and cute knick knacks laid in an artistic spiral on a colorful throw blanket. Chloé almost turned around and bolted immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Chloé! Sabrina!” Ms. Bustier greeted, her voice warm and welcoming. “Feel free to take a seat anywhere in the circle.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blonde sighed. It was too late. She had already been spotted. Her shoulders fell and she stomped over to a seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t it great, Chloé?” Sabrina gushed enthusiastically as she took the seat to Chloé’s right. “We don’t have to do work today!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fantastic,” Chloé grumbled bitterly, inspecting her own nails in an attempt to distract herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sabrina was technically correct. They didn’t have to do any academic work whenever Ms. Bustier organized a community circle, but Chloé </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> community circles. She would have preferred the academic work, honestly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that she could really articulate </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> she hated them. She just </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oooh!” Mylene squealed from the doorway. “A community circle! These are my favorite days!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé glanced at the clock already counting down the minutes until the end of the period even though it hadn’t started yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole class filed in gradually. Marinette chose a seat on the exact opposite side of the circle, and Alya, Nino, and finally Adrien filled in the seats around her when they arrived. Marinette handed out croissants to her friends, which the other three accepted with delighted grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé’s eyes remained on Adrien, wondering for the millionth time how he had made friends so easily. She had always assumed he would struggle when he came to public school, and that meant he would have to hang out with her. Chloé had been beyond excited, but things hadn’t gone the way she predicted. And now, he felt further away than ever. Adrien didn’t need Chloé anymore. And sometimes, with the way he stiffened when she grabbed his arm or frowned when she was critiquing someone’s fashion choices, she wondered if he even liked her anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Had he </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> liked her at all?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the bell rang, Ms. Bustier held up the usual set of six norms and guidelines for appropriate behavior during a community circle. Chloé didn’t bother to read them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please remind the people on either side of you what each of these norms means,” her teacher directed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sabrina turned towards her, but Chloé turned stubbornly to the right, towards Max who was conveniently turned towards Nathaniel who sat on his other side, so Chloé wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. Sabrina was quick to take the hint, and joined Rose’s and Juleka’s conversation instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé glanced at the numbered list. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Speak your truth.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was the third item of Ms. Bustier’s Guidelines and Norms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé scoffed and turned back to her nails with disdain. As if any of these plebians could understand her truth! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are there any questions about what any of these mean?” Ms. Bustier asked, and glanced around the circle. No one said anything. Chloé rolled her eyes. This was the fifth time the class had gone through one of these. They all knew how they worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does anyone feel something needs to be added in order for you to feel safe sharing?” And again, Ms. Bustier waited, but no one responded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. Then I would ask everyone to give a thumbs up if you agree to uphold these norms.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a slight rustling as everyone moved at the same time to give the hand signal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ivan, do you agree to these norms?” The teacher prompted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivan lifted his thumb up higher in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chloé?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé sighed before she gave a half-hearted thumbs up. She had learned the hard way that if she didn’t agree, she would just get locked into a conversation about what she felt she needed to be safe within the group. And it’s not like she could say she didn’t like it when other people shared personal things. She didn’t know why she didn’t like it. She just knew hearing the details of their drab boring lives made her… uncomfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, uncomfortable was too mild a word. Chloé literally felt like she couldn’t breathe at times. And in those moments, she wanted nothing more than to clamp her hands over her ears, and flee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least Ms. Bustier never forced Chloé to share if she didn’t want to. That was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> reason she hadn’t thrown a fit with administration about these community circles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having gathered consensus from everyone, her teacher had started the circle by reading a poem. Ms. Bustier referred to these as mood pieces. Today’s poem was something about looking past the surface or something. Honestly, Chloé didn’t really know. She wasn’t listening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll start with a check in question. What has been a rose and thorn of your month? Is there anyone who would like to go first?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alix raised her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms. Bustier smiled warmly and gestured an open hand toward the centerpiece. “Please select a talking piece.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alix darted from her seat and considered the arrangement of knick knacks at the center of the room, and chose a little stuffed bear before returning to her seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My rose would be that I’ve won three out of four bets against Kim,” she announced with a smirk, drawing an amused chuckle from the class, before passing the bear to Mylene on her right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mylene spoke so quietly that Chloé couldn’t hear what she was saying, not that she was actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to listen. In fact, it would be better for everyone if she didn’t hear any of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the soft brown stuffed bear came to her, Chloé passed it to Sabrina without a word. Chloé </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> passed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My thorn would be that I lost three out of four bets with Alix,” Kim drawled out, earning another laugh from the class. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé sighed and glanced up at the clock again. Forty-two minutes remained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My rose would be that I got to go on a date with Ondine. She’s divine,” Kim continued. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hardly,” Chloé mumbled under her breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chloé, would you take a step outside for a moment?” Ms. Bustier asked calmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé stomped outside the classroom, but honestly, when the door closed after her exit, her body loosened in relief to have escaped the awkward circle. It was far better to sit outside with her legs dangling over the edge of the balcony and the paved courtyard below. Out here, it was quiet. She didn’t have to listen to anyone else babble on about their mundane achievements and struggles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, her teacher joined her not three minutes later and the teenager scrambled to her feet. “Chloé, do you know why I asked you to step outside?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé nodded, her fingers fiddling with her belt. “The comment I made after Kim shared his rose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms. Bustier nodded. “And do you think your comment upheld the norm of speaking with respect?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé gritted her teeth. “No,” she admitted, her gaze lost over the railing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about listening with respect?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé glanced up at her disapproving teacher, and looked back down into her hands. Bustier was the one teacher she wanted to think well of her. Ms. Bustier was the only teacher that seemed to care about her at all. “No…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You agreed to uphold these norms, did you not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé bristled. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice. “I did,” she bit out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chloé,” her teacher said more softly. “I know these activities are not your favorite days.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Startled blue eyes flew up into the gentle face of her teacher. “You do?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms Bustier coughed, with a closed fist covering her mouth. Her green eyes sparkled with amusement, and Chloé suspected her teacher was trying not to laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make it very clear. But I want you to know I think you could get a lot out of them if you actually let yourself engage in them. You might learn something about yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé turned away again. She didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to learn more about herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What if she didn’t like what she found?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I cannot force you of course. You don’t have to share if you don’t want to, but I do need you to uphold these norms during the activity. Do you understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé nodded. “I understand.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The red-headed teacher poked her head back into the classroom. “Kim, can you join us for a moment?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few seconds later, the broad shouldered jock with his </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span> haircut came through the door and stood just a pace away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kim, Chloé’s comment was directed at you. What do you need in order to feel okay with her coming back in?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned his gaze towards her, and he grinned. There was nothing friendly about the expression. He was planning something.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't you dare!</span>
  </em>
  <span> She mouthed at him. If he said he wanted an apology she was going to get sent to the principal's office and threaten to call her father. Damocles was </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> easier to intimidate than Bustier. And Chloé would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> apologize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's fine, Ms. Bustier,” Kim said easily, his smile never fading. “We are all used to Chloé at this point. She can come back in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first Chloé was surprised, but then she realized the dumb jock knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what he was doing. He was making her come back to the fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>circle</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bastard!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Their teacher indicated they should head back inside the room with an open arm. Chloé went first, her hands clenched into fists, Kim followed behind, with Bustier in the rear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé slid into her seat quickly and continued to try and ignore everyone around her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms. Bustier cleared her throat loudly to gain everyone’s attention. “Alright class, for our activity today you will need a piece of paper and a marker. There are several colors for both paper and pens for you to choose from at the center of the circle. After you have your materials, you are going to trace your hand onto the paper.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé scoffed. Trace their hand? What was this? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kindergarten?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Outside of your hand, write the things people see or assume about you. On the fingers, write down what you wish they saw instead. On the palm, write down what you hide from the world. Directions are on the board if you need a reminder. Go ahead and begin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé didn’t move when the class scurried into action towards the centerpiece, which stored the materials for the activity, but Sabrina brought her back a piece of yellow paper, and a black marker. Chloé smirked. At least Sabrina brought her the right colors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé took an inordinate amount of time tracing her hand. Sabrina and Max had already filled in the outside of their papers, and had started working on filling in the fingers when Chloé finished tracing her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the outside of her drawn hand, she wrote ‘Queen’, ‘Stylish’, and ‘Powerful’. It was only three words. A glance to her left and right showed that Sabrina and Max had written half a dozen more adjectives or features on the outer section of their papers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé didn’t care. She didn’t need more words to define her. And she definitely didn’t bother filling in the fingers. She didn’t care how people saw her. And even if she did, she wasn’t going to admit that to anyone, let alone write it down on a piece of paper for all her peers to see. So instead, she tapped her marker on her table without any pattern or rhythm glancing at the clock every few seconds. Twenty nine minutes to go. She suppressed a groan. Could time go </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> slower?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright!” Ms Bustier called. “Raise your hand if you need more time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé flipped over her page to hide that it was incomplete. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When no one raised their hand, Ms. Bustier continued. “We’re going to count off in order to randomize our discussion groups. After we’ve done that, please find the other two people in the room that have the same number as you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé was assigned a three, which put her in the same group as Mylene and Alix. But as luck would have it, Sabrina ended up with Ivan and Adrien. It took all of five seconds to convince Ivan that he could be with Mylene if he just swapped numbers with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one said anything about her manipulation of the random assignments, and Ms. Bustier was circling around on the other side of the room, so Chloé doubted that the teacher would notice before they were all deep in discussion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sabrina jumped right in, holding up her purple piece of paper with her hand traced neatly in green with a dozen words written out on various parts of the page. Her friend pointed to the outside of the traced hand first. “People often say that I’m bubbly, helpful, a good listener, and people often remark on my red hair. I’ve also been told that I’m useless and I’m a fashion disaster,” Sabrina explained excitedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé did not react outwardly to Sabrina’s words even as her gut twisted uneasily. The blonde girl glanced down at her nails. It had really been too long since the Chloé had bought Sabrina a gift. Her friend might like a new handbag or an organizer for all her headbands. Sabrina definitely deserved to be spoiled on occasion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But really,” Sabrina continued her eyebrows rising into her forehead with excitement. “I wish people would see that I’m intelligent and that I work hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re also very loyal,” Adrien interjected with a soft patient smile. “You give unconditional support to your friends. That’s something I really admire about you, Sabrina.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé’s eyes jumped to his face. How could he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>say</span>
  </em>
  <span> all that so easily? Really, it wasn’t fair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sabrina’s cheeks turned pink, and her hands clutched either side of her face in embarrassment. “Why thank you for saying so, Adrien!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé sighed. Really, she shouldn’t have been surprised when Adrien made friends so easily. He was naive and socially awkward, definitely. But… well, he was also always so… </span>
  <em>
    <span>earnest</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chloé?” Sabrina called softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé’s gaze jumped up to both of her partners staring at her expectantly. “What?” she demanded impatiently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither Sabrina nor Adrien flinched at her tone. She loved them for that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you want to go next?” Adrien clarified, pointing at the folded paper in her left hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé glanced down at the folded paper. “Ah, no. That’s okay!” she exclaimed, giving Adrien a bright smile. “Why don’t you go first, Adri-kins?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “Sure Chloé. Whatever you want.” He opened his green paper to his hand traced in black. Chloé rolled her eyes at the Chat Noir color scheme. He had even drawn a little cat emoji on one of the fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not very subtle, Adri-kins.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, Chloé dressed up in Queen Bee colors all the time, but Chloé had never bothered </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to keep her identity a secret. Adrien was so obvious sometimes though. She didn’t understand how no one had figured him out yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People say that I’m attractive, rich, and incredibly fortunate. Apparently, I’m quite the </span>
  <em>
    <span>cat</span>
  </em>
  <span>ch.” His tone was light, but Chloé knew better. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> that people saw him that way. Hated that he was objectified and pursued by those that had never met him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish people realized that I’m just a regular kid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>See, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Chloé did not understand </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She had no desire to be normal. She was far above normal. And so was Adrien. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I wish people knew that I was funny,” he continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé burst out laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” he demanded, his voice sullen and petulant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She just shook her head. “You might </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be funny, Adri-kins. You don’t often succeed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pouted. It was adorable. “I just made you laugh, didn’t I?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep telling yourself that,” she commented dryly. But she smiled at him just the same. He smiled back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As for hiding from the world?” he continued, an arm behind his neck. “I would have to say loneliness.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé’s smile evaporated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like even when I make a connection with someone, I have to hide half of who I am. No one seems to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see all of it,” he confided.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé’s gut twisted painfully. She had always assumed that he had abandoned her when he had come to school and made new friends. But she never really let him be himself either. She had mocked his corny jokes and self conscious habits. And she had done nothing but scorn Chat Noir before she realized who he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her arms crossed over her stomach, squeezing her own form tightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, Chloé </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> community circles! Why couldn’t they be writing an essay right now or something? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t want to feel this way! Or feel anything at all, if she got to choose! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chloé?” Sabrina’s concerned voice cut into her thoughts. “Are you okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé made herself smile. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I be anything other than stellar?” she bit out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien arched a golden eyebrow at her tone, but didn’t comment. “It’s your turn,” he told her instead, once again gesturing to her yellow paper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bit her lip. She really didn’t want to share it. There wasn’t anything to share. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Raise your hand if your group needs more time,” Bustier’s voice rang out throughout the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sabrina and Adrien both started to move, but she shook her head emphatically at them, and their hands dropped back to their sides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright then, if you would please return to your seats for the closing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The class burst into movement again. “It was nice chatting with you both,” Adrien said with his usual patient smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé nodded in acknowledgement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too, Adrien!” Sabrina gushed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé turned to go back to her seat only to bump shoulders with Marinette. Chloé sneered at the other girl, feeling even more animosity towards her long time school rival than usual. Adrien said that he had never been able to share all of himself with anyone. That included Ladybug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette’s blue eyes narrowed into an icy glare of her own. “Don’t think I don’t know that you cheated to be in Adrien’s group!” she hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was more to be with Sabrina. Adrien was just a bonus, but there was no way she was going to explain that to Marinette. “You’re only upset because you didn’t think of it first,” Chloé bit back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alix, Kim, Marinette, Juleka, Chloé! Would you please rejoin us in the circle?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé turned on her heels without a glance at the others, and settled back into her seat, her arms folded across her chest. There was only nine minutes left of class! One more question, and Chloé would be free. It couldn’t come soon enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms Bustier smiled warmly at the whole class from her own seat within the circle. “I want to thank you all for participating today and for being brave enough to be vulnerable with each other today. I have one final closing question for you all before you depart. What is something you’ve been struggling with this month? Take twenty seconds to think about it,” she directed and allowed the room to fall into silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé slid her yellow flats against the leg of her chair absently. She didn’t bother thinking of a response to the question as she wasn’t going to share. It was a terrible question anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there anyone who would like to go first?” Ms. Bustier’s resonant voice called out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé cursed under her breath when Max, still at her right, raised his hand to go first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the teacher’s direction, he moved to the center of the room, and selected an item - a replica of Ladybug’s yoyo, before returning to his seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been struggling with a bug in Markov’s code. I can’t sleep because I can’t stop thinking of potential solutions, but so far nothing has worked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He handed the talking piece to her. Chloé practically threw the cheap plastic toy at Sabrina as if it was a piece of hot coal that would burn her. Chloé was not about to share her struggles. She would not give anyone in this room the satisfaction or a weapon to use against her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our geometry homework has been really long and complicated,” Sabrina shared. Several of their classmates nodded in agreement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé’s shoulders relaxed, releasing tension she hadn’t realized was there. If they were all just going to whine about hard math problems, Chloé could handle it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been struggling to identify my sexual identity.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé’s gaze jerked up at the vulnerable pronouncement. Alix didn’t even blush as she passed the yoyo to Kim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The jock fiddled with the toy for a second, not speaking. Just flipping it over and over again in his hands. “I…” he swallowed and started again. “My mother is sick,” he confessed. “And I’m not sure she’s going to get better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was all too much. Chloé’s skin crawled like a colony of ants had taken up residence. She rubbed frantically at her arms, losing the battle to sit still. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This </span>
  </em>
  <span>was why Chloé hated circles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tried not to listen as the spotted talking piece was passed around the room. It went through Rose, Juleka, Ivan, Mylene, and Nathaniel. Chloé was able to tune it all out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been feeling… overwhelmed,” Marinette admitted even as she spun the yoyo in her hands. “I have so many responsibilities, and I’m terrified that I won’t be able to live up to them all on my own. And I’m scared it will be someone else that pays the price.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence roared in Chloé’s ears. How she wanted to dismiss Marinette’s fears as being an over dramatic teenager. But she couldn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé knew exactly what Marinette was talking about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On god damn it all, Chloé actually felt bad for her. For the weight on her shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t want to feel this way! Certainly, not about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Marinette Dupain-Cheng</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> about Ladybug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé was still </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry</span>
  </em>
  <span> with Ladybug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette passed the red and black yoyo to Adrien who took it with a smile before turning back to the circle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He also stared at the talking piece for a second before sharing. “So many people in my life claim to care about me. But then,” he trailed off and glanced up to the ceiling then back down to the centerpiece in the center of the floor. “But I don’t think they actually respect or trust me. They just expect blind obedience. And I… I don’t know if I can do that forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Chloé had no trouble hearing him. None at all even though he was clear across the room, even though he spoke barely louder than a whisper. It was like a prayer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One that not even Ladybug could recognize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it was up to Chloé. She would have to fix this herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have implemented five community circles in my classroom each year over the last four years.<br/> <br/>The first one in any given year is awkward and the kids giggle a lot. By the end of the year, they are life changing. The stories students have shared have been powerful by themselves, but that’s not the most amazing part. The most amazing part is how students start to treat each other differently - with more patience and compassion - after they hear these stories. It turns out if they learn why someone is irritating, they don’t get irritated with them nearly as often. When you know someone’s story, you don’t fear them. You admire them because everyone has an amazing story. I can’t share specific examples because to tell you anything more would be to violate their privacy. But I’m telling you, LIFE CHANGING! <br/> <br/>That being said, I would caution you against ever participating in a community or restorative circle without a trained facilitator. My very first “restorative” circle was before I had participated in my own training, and definitely resulted in more harm than good. The facilitator meant well in trying to implement something that was supposed to be more healing than punitive, but when she was implicated in causing harm by the students who were there to reflect, she became defensive and angry. And then of course the students just emulated the model before them. </p><p>On a more personal note, I’m very stressed out these days. I have been writing to cope, but I’ve been extremely undisciplined in which projects I work on. Like I seriously have seven different stories that I've been flitting back and forth between depending on my mood. I currently have a five chapter outline for this work, but I have absolutely no idea when I will update this. So… this is just a warning that I will be very slow. Hope you enjoy.</p><p>Thanks for reading. Reviews are love!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Preparation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Restorative Justice Training:</p>
<p>My restorative justice training may have been the single most powerful professional development experience I’ve ever had. The person who facilitated my cohort’s training, worked to train teachers at various schools and community programs for a living, and he did pro-bono work with prison inmates. He imparted over and over again that the worse the transgression, the better restorative justice practices worked. </p>
<p>Facilitator: Every abuser, every bully, every violent person was a victim first. <br/>Me: But how would you approach the situation if they weren’t a victim first?<br/>Facilitator: I have never encountered an exception. <br/>Me: Never? <br/>Facilitator: Never.</p>
<p>This is not to excuse their behavior. But those who do harm are doing it to protect themselves from being hurt again. And if you can understand that, and you can help acknowledge and address the underlying issue, often the problematic behavior disappears.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two weeks had gone by and Chloé had made absolutely zero progress in her self-assigned secret mission, though it wasn’t for lack of trying.</p>
<p>She had spent hours on the roof of the hotel with the bee signal trained towards the sky both during, and not during, akuma attacks <em>hoping</em> Ladybug would give her the time of day. Chloé wasn’t sure what she was going to say exactly, but she figured Ladybug needed to know that she was going to lose her partner if she kept echoing the way his father treated him.</p>
<p>It hadn’t mattered, because Ladybug never came. When the spotted heroine hadn’t shown up over the course of several days, Chloé staged a loud conversation with Sabrina during class about how she wasn’t even going to ask for the Bee Miraculous (though of course Ladybug would be better off with Chloé on her team). She just needed to give Ladybug some valuable intel. </p>
<p>But Ladybug still hadn’t shown. </p>
<p>And neither had Chat Noir.</p>
<p>Which stung more than a little bit. Adrien had heard the conversation as well. And supposedly, he still considered her a friend. At least, that’s what he said when she asked if he was mad at her for something. He had seemed genuinely confused at the question. But it wasn’t like she could follow up with a “Then why didn’t Chat Noir show up on my hotel roof when I asked him to?” </p>
<p>She supposed that neither of the heroes truly believed she had anything valuable to share with them. </p>
<p><em>God!</em> She wanted to tear her hair from her scalp in frustration. They were both so <em>dumb!</em> </p>
<p>When contacting them as superheros failed, she figured that she would try their civilian personas. </p>
<p>Chloé had taken two steps toward Marinette one morning in the courtyard when the girl was there early for once before promptly changing her mind. Marinette was <em>never</em> ever going to hear her out. As Ladybug, the girl had to at least <em>pretend</em> to be neutral toward Chloé. But as Marinette? Absolutely no way! </p>
<p>Really, Chloé didn’t need them to talk to her anyway. She just needed them to talk to each other with complete honesty. But as long as they didn’t know who the other was they couldn’t be that honest. </p>
<p>What if she just sent them anonymous notes in their lockers or something? It wouldn’t even have to be long! </p>
<p>
  <em>Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ladybug is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. </em>
</p>
<p>Boom! Done! End of story. </p>
<p>Chloé had seriously contemplated it. She had the notes written out and everything. She was just waiting for the opportune moment to slip them into said lockers. But then the whole ‘Lila planting evidence in Marinette’s locker’ thing happened. Clearly, lockers were not secure enough. </p>
<p>Chloé had shredded the notes. </p>
<p>And unfortunately, the blonde was back to trying to talk to Marinette. Chloé had found her alone at a table in the library during a study period. Marinette had five books sprawled out around her as she frantically scribbled on a piece of paper. </p>
<p>Chloé stood in front of the table expectantly. Marinette didn’t even look up. Chloé cleared her throat dramatically, which only earned her a sparing glance before Marinette’s attention was back on her reference book. The blonde thought about just asking if they could talk for a minute, like a normal person, but this was Marinette. And well, Chloé had never been reasonable with Marinette. </p>
<p>Especially not when Marinette was ignoring her.</p>
<p>So instead, Chloé went and collected two volumes of an encyclopedia before returning to Marinette’s table. She then dropped the books unceremoniously from as high as she could comfortably reach. The heavy blue volumes hit the table with an explosion of sound. </p>
<p>Marinette jumped twenty centimeters from her seat, her gaze shooting up in indignant frustration. </p>
<p>“Chloé!” she shrieked. “What the hell?” </p>
<p>“You were ignoring me,” Chloé observed. </p>
<p>Marinette sighed, rapidly moving to collect her belongings. “I seriously don’t have time for this today. Can’t you just disappear until tomorrow or something?” </p>
<p>“You need to listen to me!” Chloé insisted. </p>
<p>Marinette stacked up her reference books into a neat pile. “I don’t need to do anything of the sort,” Marinette told her before stuffing the last of her work back into her backpack, and leaving the blonde alone at the table. </p>
<p><em>In the library. With dusty books. Ugh. </em> </p>
<p>Really, Chloé needed to just lock them in a closet together or something! Surely, Sabrina could come up with some scheme to get them in a room with no windows and a locked door. Surely, the hotel had some storage closet somewhere that they could use. Or maybe something at school would work better.  Sabrina was <em>amazing</em> at getting people to do as she wanted. And God, that had come in handy on occasion. Adrien wouldn’t be hard. He might even listen to Chloé, but she’d need Sabrina for Marinette. Only Sabrina could still trick Marinette. </p>
<p>It wouldn’t really work though. Marinette would probably love the forced alone time with Adrien. And they were both so stubborn. They’d never reveal their identities just to get out of a locked room. </p>
<p>Her fingernails clicked on the desk in rapid succession like a series of grace notes.</p>
<p>They wouldn’t reveal their identities for their own convenience, sure. But if someone else needed Ladybug and Chat Noir? </p>
<p>So, Chloé would just have to lock them in a room together and <em>then</em> inspire an akuma. </p>
<p>It wouldn’t be <em>that</em> hard, would it? And creating an atmosphere for an akuma shouldn’t be that challenging either, should it? Like, she had done it by accident how many times now? </p>
<p>
  <em>How very heroic.</em>
</p>
<p>She quickly realized it couldn’t work anyway. For them to know about an akuma, they’d have to have their phones, but if they had their phones, what would stop them from contacting Adrien’s bodyguard or Alya and Nino to get out of the room?</p>
<p>She had tried to approach Adrien directly, too. She only had the five or so minutes before he had to be in his limo after their last class, being shipped off to whatever lesson he had going on that day.  </p>
<p>“It’s been a long time since we talked, Adri-kins,” she told him. “We should set up a lunch date to catch up.” </p>
<p>He smiled at her. “My schedule is really packed this week, Chloé. Maybe have your people call my people to set something up later in the month?” he said lightly, as he brought his fencing bag to his shoulder.  </p>
<p>The brush off hurt more than a little bit. But of course he would want to spend every scrap of free time with his close friends. </p>
<p>Which was a very short list, and she was clearly no longer on it.</p>
<p>Maybe this whole idea wasn’t worth it in the first place.</p>
<p>Like, why was she trying so hard to help Adrien when he barely gave her any of his time or attention anymore?</p>
<p>“But maybe I have something important and urgent to talk to you about,” she admitted.</p>
<p>He tensed, his green eyes giving a cursory glance over her whole form. “Is something wrong?” He reached out a hand to her shoulder. “Has your mother…?” </p>
<p>She waved away his physical comfort. “My mother is in New York!” she snapped impatiently. “She hasn’t spoken to me in weeks.” </p>
<p>Which meant she couldn’t have said anything hurtful to tear Chloé to pieces. </p>
<p>She had no reason to be upset. </p>
<p><em>None at all</em>. </p>
<p>But his frown only deepened, and he stepped forward again. </p>
<p>And that’s when she realized he probably <em>would</em> make time for her if she asked. </p>
<p>The <em>idiot</em>.</p>
<p>“It’s nothing about any of that. I’m fine. I’m worried about <em>you</em>,” she insisted emphatically.</p>
<p>And with those words he pulled away, and closed himself off immediately. “I’m fine, Chloé,” he told her with that stupid pasted on fake smile. “What could I possibly have to complain about?” he asked her before walking to the door and waving farewell. </p>
<p>She had wanted to run after him so she could scream at him.</p>
<p>That had been three days ago.</p>
<p>She furiously wiped away the tears that were sliding down her cheeks.</p>
<p>Why couldn’t she help him? Why wouldn’t he let her? He was growing more withdrawn by the day! Not that anyone other than her seemed to notice. Which she couldn’t understand! It was <em>so</em> obvious! </p>
<p>When he had first come to school, he had been an excited puppy anytime anyone included him in a conversation or invited him to some social outing. Chloé had assumed that the novelty of school and peers would eventually wear off, but a solid <em>year</em> later, it hadn’t. He was <em>still</em> an excited puppy with any scrap of affection.</p>
<p>Or he had been until recently.</p>
<p>Adrien had been far less animated for the past week. He still smiled and said all the right things when people engaged with him, but it wasn’t real. He was going through the motions. Pulling out the politeness and the charm that had been drilled into him as a child that grew up in the spotlight. </p>
<p>And normally, Chloé could have dismissed the change in behavior as a sign of fatigue. The akumas recently had been constant and brutal, and Gabriel showed no signs of easing up on Adrien’s commitments or expectations. </p>
<p>But it was more than that because he hadn’t transformed gradually over time as his responsibilities built up. No, he had changed from puppy Adrien to polite Adrien in the span of a few minutes. From sunshine-child to creature-of-the-night literally instantaneously.</p>
<p>Chloé had been in class sitting next to Sabrina as always, working on their project. Or well, letting Sabrina take notes on their project, but whatever. </p>
<p>Ayla and Marinette sat in their usual seats with their heads together with Nino sitting a few feet away occasionally laughing or shaking his head at whatever nonsense they were saying. Then Adrien had arrived late to class from a photoshoot of something. </p>
<p>“What are you guys talking about,” he had asked as he took his seat next to Nino. </p>
<p>“N-nothing!” Marinette had stammered, her face turning tomato-red. </p>
<p>Nino rolled his eyes again. “Don’t worry about it, dude. Girls are crazy.” </p>
<p>And Chloé had watched Adrien’s shoulders stiffen. And his eyes go flat. And of course there was that stupid polite smile in place. He was upset. He was upset that they his friends were keeping things from him. </p>
<p>And <em>of course</em> the other three keeping secrets from him would drive a wedge into his soul. How could they not know that? Chloé didn’t care that they were doing it to protect whatever was left of Marinette’s dignity. </p>
<p>Chloé didn’t care about Marinette’s dignity <em>at all</em>. </p>
<p>They were hurting him. Making him think they didn’t trust him either.</p>
<p>Just like his father. </p>
<p>Just like Ladybug. </p>
<p>And since that day, he had stopped initiating conversations. He didn’t talk about his favorite video games, or whatever anime he had binged that past weekend. He didn’t light up like a supernova when Nino asked him to come to a party or the girls invited him out to ice cream.</p>
<p>And <em>worse</em>, he wasn’t accepting their invitations. He was making excuses for why he couldn’t even try. </p>
<p>Not even <em>real</em> excuses like whatever stupid lessons his father had him taking, but fake ones about being tired or needing to study. </p>
<p><em>As if!</em> Adrien didn’t really need to study. He was one of those obnoxiously intelligent kids who just absorbed academic knowledge through osmosis or whatever. And even if he needed to study, (which Chloé still doubted), he wouldn’t miss out on time with his friends to do it. He would just stay up all night instead. </p>
<p>But he was declining invitations and she guessed everyone was just so accustomed to him not being able to come, that they didn’t notice he had stopped trying. And the second his friends’ eyes were off him, he would wilt like a plant without water. </p>
<p>And his so-called friends didn’t notice that either! Not even <em>Nino</em>. </p>
<p>But Chloé noticed. </p>
<p>And she didn’t like it.</p>
<p>And as loathe as Chloé was to admit it, Marinette wasn’t faring any better. She was probably worse actually. The part-time superheroine had bags under eyes, and she was constantly falling asleep in class only to wake up screaming in pure terror. </p>
<p>Chloé did <em>not</em> want to know what those nightmares were about. </p>
<p>Then, the civilian side of Paris’s savior and super heroine had randomly burst into tears at least twice in the last three days, and refused to explain to anyone - even Alya - what was upsetting her.</p>
<p>But that didn’t mean <em>Chloé</em> had to help her. Marinette had made it clear that she didn’t want Chloé’s help, which was just fine because the feeling was completely and thoroughly mutual. </p>
<p>Marinette had always acted like she was some great authority on moral goodness. But Chloé knew Marinette was selfish, too. Marinette neglected responsibilities for her own gain, she lied more frequently than anyone realized, and she pushed her way into situations that were none of her business thinking she knew better than everyone, often making everything <em>worse!</em> Marinette always assumed the worst of Chloé even when she legitimately was trying to help. </p>
<p>Which is likely why <em>Ladybug</em> had always assumed the worst of Chloé even in the very beginning when Chloé had tried to help her locate Vanisher’s akuma. Why Ladybug had been so insistent on seeing the worst in Queen Bee even right after she had helped Ladybug and Chat Noir rescue that runaway speed train. </p>
<p>The heroine hadn’t been wrong in that instance, but that was <em>hardly the point!</em> </p>
<p>But then, something had changed when her father had been akumatized the first time. And the spotted heroine Chloé had so admired offered her compassion, a shoulder to cry on, and a second chance. Told her she wasn’t useless and could become a hero if she wanted to be. Had invited <em>her</em>, <em>Chloé</em>, to race across rooftops and serve as her partner against a vicious akuma, when Chat Noir had been mentally transformed into an actual cat.</p>
<p>And for the first time in a <em>long</em> time, Chloé had had hope that she could become something… better. Something… worthwhile. </p>
<p>No matter what her mother said, or her classmates thought of her - she could be a hero. Someone others trusted without question, someone people respected, looked up to, and emulated. </p>
<p>Chloé didn’t know how to be that person, but she knew that she wanted it. And that she was willing to try. </p>
<p>But then a few weeks later, Paris’s heroine had taken it all back. Even after Chloé fought against Hawkmoth with her. Even though Chloé hadn’t done anything differently. Even though she had tried to find others ways to build herself up instead of tear others down by making collages of selfies and videos dressed up as Ladybug rather than targeting others.</p>
<p>None of it had mattered. Ladybug had just stopped coming to her with the miraculous. And then, right after Chloé had managed to fight off an akuma all on her own, Ladybug had shown up and said she’d never get the miraculous again because people knew who she was? </p>
<p>It was a load of bullshit! </p>
<p>Because that hadn’t mattered when her father was akumatized, it hadn’t mattered on Heroes Day! </p>
<p>Which led Chloé to one inescapable conclusion - Ladybug was just like everyone else. Someone who changed the rules when it suited them, went back on their word without thought, and wasn’t nearly as kind or compassionate as she pretended to be. </p>
<p>Really, Chloé should have known better than to ever hope. </p>
<p>She shoved her notebook off the table in front of her, sending it flying into the back of Ms. Bustier’s desk with a satisfying bang when the metal furniture snapped back into form.</p>
<p>“Chloé?”</p>
<p>Chloé started at the voice of concern. Ms. Bustier slipped into the classroom from the door in the back and quickly approached her. </p>
<p>“What’s wrong?” </p>
<p>“Nothing!” Chloé spit out venomously, whirling away from her teacher towards the front of the room.</p>
<p>Ms. Bustier put down her bag at her desk, rolled the chair from her desk in front of Chloé’s table, and took a seat. </p>
<p>Chloé shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t want to talk out her feelings. </p>
<p>“What were you working on?” her teacher asked, her voice calm and smooth as a still lake. </p>
<p>Chloé shook her head rapidly. “Nothing! It was a stupid idea. I’m clearly not cut out for it.” </p>
<p>“Maybe you just need some help,” was the gentle suggestion.</p>
<p>Chloé sighed glancing up into the warm face of her teacher. “I… was trying to fix something. But I should’ve known better. I’m really good at making a mess of things. The idea of me fixing something is ridiculous.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Utterly ridiculous. </em>
</p>
<p>Silence permeated the otherwise empty classroom. It was stifling. Chloé stared into her hands, folded under the desk. Her teacher remained silent, sending her emotions spiraling down to new depressing depths. </p>
<p>Even Ms. Bustier didn’t know what to say. Clearly, Chloé was a lost cause. And so was her self assigned mission. </p>
<p>“Do you <em>want</em> help?”</p>
<p>Chloé looked up, searching the compelling green eyes of her teacher. She seemed earnest in her concern, but Chloé has been burned before. Her childhood nanny, Adele, had promised to help her, too. And then the petite woman had gotten herself fired and Chloé had never seen her again.</p>
<p>It’s not like Bustier could actually help, anyway.</p>
<p>But then, another thought struck through her psyche like lightning. Ms. Bustier totally <em>could</em> make a couple of kids sit alone in a room together. </p>
<p>In a <em>fucking circle</em>. </p>
<p>But Chloé <em>hated</em> circles. </p>
<p>She took a deep breath. This was for Adrien. For Adrien. For Adrien.</p>
<p>“Could… could we maybe do one of those circles? Not the community one, but the other one when people are fighting?”</p>
<p>Ms. Bustier raised an eyebrow. “<em>You</em> want to do a restorative circle? Did I hear that right?”</p>
<p><em>Want</em> was <em>not</em> the correct word. But Chloé had tried everything she could think of. And at least the circle didn’t require getting someone akumatized. She forced herself to nod. </p>
<p>Her teacher leaned forward and put a hand on Chloé’s knee. “Did something happen? Are you and Sabrina not speaking?” </p>
<p>Chloé physically recoiled at the very idea. “<em>What?! No!</em> Sabrina is great. No… this would be with...” her indignation evaporated instantly, and she found her gaze glancing over the shoulder of her teacher’s white blazer. “With Marinette and Adrien.”</p>
<p>Ms Bustier sat up straighter. “You’re just full of surprises today, Chloé.” </p>
<p>Chloé risked another glance up, but her homeroom teacher was smiling. </p>
<p>“Okay, and was anyone else affected by this conflict? Anyone else that you think is involved or might have hurt feelings? Or anyone else that hurt you in this same conflict?”</p>
<p>Chloé cocked her head to the side, letting herself consider the question. Really, it just needed to be Marinette, Adrien, and Chloé. But… Alya’s presence could prove to be incredibly useful. And if Alya was there, Nino would likely reinforce everything the brunette would say…</p>
<p>The only problem was involving more people would piss off Ladybug even more.</p>
<p>Chloé grinned at the thought.</p>
<p>She had never been above getting a bit of revenge when it was deserved. (And maybe undeserved). All five of them it would be. </p>
<p>“Césaire, Lahiffe, and Adri-kins,” Chloé supplied. Bustier went to her desk and retrieved a notebook and quickly wrote down the names. </p>
<p>“What happened?”</p>
<p>Chloé hesitated. Technically, nothing had happened, though of course she and Marinette had a ton of history, dozens of fights and altercations that she could pull from, and yet… </p>
<p>“I tried to tell Marinette something really important. But she won’t listen to me. And I can’t totally fault her for that, but this is really really important. Like fate-of-the-world-important!” she exclaimed, her hand stretching out to indicate the scope of the situation at hand. </p>
<p>“What is it that you want to tell her?” </p>
<p>“That she’s a blind self righteous know-it-all,” Chloé ranted. “And she needs to knock it off because she’s hurting someone that we both care about.” </p>
<p>“Adrien?” Ms Bustier guessed even as she was taking notes. </p>
<p>Chloé nodded. “Yes, Adrien, but she doesn’t even know that she’s hurting him because he will just sit there and take it! He’ll never say anything,” she lamented, her lips twisted into an indignant sneer. “But eventually he’s going to break, Ms. Bustier. And I don’t want to see that! I’ve been trying to get her to talk to me so I could give her some context and explain what she was doing, but she ignores me completely, or won’t even let me say hello before she declares she doesn’t have time for me and runs off!”</p>
<p>“I can see how that would be frustrating for you, Chloé,” Ms. Bustier empathized. “But I also need you to understand that the purpose of the circle is to heal things between you and Marinette. It is not so you can yell and berate her when she is not allowed to leave. Do you understand?” </p>
<p>Chloé sighed, but nodded anyway.</p>
<p>“Now, do you have any idea why Marinette might be acting this way? Any reason at all that Marinette might distrust you or be unwilling to hear you out?”</p>
<p>Chloé glanced away toward the classroom window, her righteous anger fading. When she turned to the front again, her gaze remained locked on her nails.</p>
<p>“Perhaps,” she admitted, her voice carefully flat. “I may have antagonized her unfairly once or twice in the past.” </p>
<p>Ms. Bustier’s lips trembled as if she was trying not to laugh. </p>
<p>Chloé huffed out a sigh. “Okay <em>fine</em>, I’ve done a lot to her over the years. But that’s not true this time! Listening to me would make her life far less stressful <em>and </em>get her closer to Adrien.” </p>
<p>“That’s quite the claim,” Ms. Bustier commented neutrally. </p>
<p>“It’s the truth!” she declared hotly.</p>
<p>“Okay. I believe you. Now, is there anything specific that happened <em>recently </em>that would cause Marinette to be more irate with you than she usually is?” </p>
<p>Chloé glanced down at her nails, but she really didn’t know what to say. Did throwing a fit when Ladybug said she could never have the Bee Miraculous back count? </p>
<p>Because the truth was, since Chloé had figured out the heroine’s identity, she had no idea why Ladybug had given her a chance in the first place. </p>
<p>And she was just as confused as to how she had managed to lose that chance a few weeks later. Chloé certainly hadn’t treated Marinette any worse than she normally did in the intervening time. She had even teamed up with the girl once so they could keep Kagami away from Adrien!</p>
<p>Ms. Bustier sighed, placed her pen down on her notebook, and leaned forward. “Chloé, in order to facilitate a restorative conversation between you and Marinette and the others, I need to prepare. I can only do that if you tell me what happened.” </p>
<p>The blonde nodded. What could she tell her that would be useful in Ms. Bustier being prepared? </p>
<p>“I…. figured out one of her secrets, something that is really important to her. And then I told her friends.” </p>
<p>“They didn’t already know?” </p>
<p>Chloé shook her head.</p>
<p>“How did the others react?”</p>
<p>Chloé pursed her lips in thought. How <em>would</em> the others react? Adrien was going to turn into a puddle of goo. Alya probably wouldn’t be much better, but she would feel guilty as hell for the whole Lila debacle. Nino was a rock, so Chloé had no idea how he would respond. But Marinette? </p>
<p>She was going to be out of this world <em>pissed</em>. </p>
<p>And for a second, Chloé hesitated.</p>
<p>“Chloé?”</p>
<p>“You think I took the time to talk to the plebians?” she countered hotly, too late to actually be convincing. </p>
<p>Bustier raised an eyebrow. </p>
<p>Chloé wilted. “Okay, fine!” she relented. “But I really don’t know. I could guess, but I didn’t stick around to see their reactions directly,” she improvised on the spot. </p>
<p>“Why did you tell them?” </p>
<p>She glanced down into the palms of her hands. “Because… they needed to know,” she admitted softly. “They can’t help her if they don’t know. And she…” she was drowning and Chloé worried how long it would be before Marinette was the akuma. And then where would Paris be? “Despite what she thinks, she can’t do what she does alone. She needs them. Especially Adrien.” </p>
<p>Chloé clutched at her head with both hands. God! What was <em>wrong</em> with her?! Why was she even trying to help <em>Marinette?</em> Marinette would only be livid. She wouldn’t be grateful. She certainly wouldn’t give Chloé another chance with the Bee Miraculous. This was supposed to be for Adrien! Adrien was the one who deserved to be seen and appreciated.</p>
<p>
  <em>Maybe it was for both of them.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Maybe Chloé didn’t need anything in return.</em>
</p>
<p>She looked up to see Ms. Bustier smiling at her. “And what was this secret?” her teacher asked. </p>
<p>Chloe balked. She knew it was silly. Ms. Bustier was going to know everything tomorrow anyway. But she was afraid Bustier would back out if she knew the full extent of what this was about. </p>
<p>“I’d rather not say.”</p>
<p>Her teacher’s green eyes considered her for a moment, and Chloé had to look away again. She sighed again before the educator spoke. “Thank you for telling me this bit. I need to interview the others and understand their side of the story and then we’ll get something scheduled.” </p>
<p>Chloé jumped to her feet, shaking her head violently. “No! You absolutely can<em> not</em> talk to them beforehand!” </p>
<p>Ms. Bustier was not disturbed by Chloé’s outburst. “And why not?” </p>
<p>“Because Marinette will never ever agree to this if she knows what it’s about. Trust me. But she’s wrong. She needs this. Actually, we all do. I promise, everything is my fault. It’s not theirs.” The words fell out of her mouth unfiltered like a runaway train. </p>
<p>“Chloé, I have rarely encountered a conflict where one side was wholly at fault. I’m sure the others have contributed.” </p>
<p>This track wasn’t working. “I won’t participate if you talk to them beforehand,” Chloé threatened. </p>
<p>“That’s not how this works, Chloé.” </p>
<p>“Please!” Chloé begged. “You don’t understand. I can’t explain completely, but Marinette will <em>not</em> come if she knows what it’s about. I’ve already tried like four times this week! We have to blindside her.” </p>
<p>“What is it about?” </p>
<p>“But Ms. Bustier! This secret… it’s really…” Chloé stammered, searching for words that would not come. “It puts Marinette in a really vulnerable position. I’m not willing to tell you on the off chance that you are not able to pull off this circle. But if we do meet and I am able to actually talk to her, I think the benefit will outweigh the drawbacks of you knowing.” </p>
<p>Ms. Bustier’s green eyed gaze pierced through her, and Chloé found it difficult not to fidget on the spot. “You’re asking me to put a lot of faith in you, Chloé,” she finally said. </p>
<p>“I know!” Chloé conceded, bowing her head down. “And I realize I probably don’t deserve it.” </p>
<p>“I didn’t say that,” her teacher interjected.</p>
<p>“But I’m trying to be worthy of it. I swear! I’m trying to be better,” her gaze fell to her shoes. </p>
<p>Two fingers on her chin gently urged her gaze up. “All you have to be, Chloé, is yourself.” </p>
<p>Chloé’s squeezed her eyes shut, trying to suppress the sudden burn behind her eyelids. She shook her head in denial.</p>
<p>A warm hand fell onto her shoulder and squeezed reassurance.</p>
<p>Chloé shrugged it off. She didn’t want to admit the contact felt good. She shouldn’t <em>need</em> reassurances like that. She couldn’t afford the weakness. </p>
<p>“Just to warn you, Marinette is going to be absolutely pissed. You may <em>think</em> you’ve seen her in self righteous must-fix-all-the-injustices-in-the-world Marinette mode, but this will take things to an entirely new level. And you probably should just let her fly off the handle. I don’t need her to be respectful. I probably don’t deserve it anyway.”</p>
<p>Ms Bustier offered a gentle smile. “We all deserve respect, Chloé. But we can also create the space for Marinette to air her grievances and for you to be treated with respect.” </p>
<p>Chloé appreciated Bustier’s confidence, but she also knew the teacher only knew the tip of the iceberg. </p>
<p>“Ms. Bustier?” she asked softly.</p>
<p>Ms Bustier looked up from her notes and gave Chloé her attentive gaze. “Yes, Chloé?” </p>
<p>Chloé swayed from one foot to the other, her hands fidgeting at her waist. “Can I ask about the “honor privacy” norm?” </p>
<p>Ms. Bustier nodded. “What about it?” </p>
<p>“Are you included in that? Will you respect Marinette’s and everyone else’s privacy?”</p>
<p>“I’m required by law to report certain things like child abuse or suicidal thoughts, but I will honor privacy in all other respects.” </p>
<p>Chloé bit her lower lip. Where did having a secret identity that required you to constantly put yourself in harm’s way fall into that? “So like... any time a student is in danger?” she suggested.</p>
<p>Her teacher nodded even though she was taking down notes into her notebook. </p>
<p>Chloé cringed. Yeah, this was probably definitely something that fell into the category of something a teacher was required to report. </p>
<p>“But…” Chloé glanced away again. “What if reporting it increased the danger they were in?” </p>
<p>Bustier looked up at her then and frowned.</p>
<p>“Are you in danger, Chloé? Is Marinette?”</p>
<p>Oh, what the hell?! In for a penny, in for a pound. “I’m in danger all the time,” Chloé explained with a straight face and was pleased to see Ms. Bustier’s face frowning in growing concern. “I’m Queen Bee,” she declared. </p>
<p>Ms Bustier’s frown transformed into an amused smile. “If you wanted that to stay private Chloé, you probably shouldn’t have announced it on live television.”</p>
<p>“But that’s my point. I’m always in danger because people know my identity. <em>Papillon</em> knows, and he’s already used me to get to Ladybug before.”</p>
<p>Her teacher softened. “Are you worried that he’s going to try again?” </p>
<p>“No! I…” she threw her hands down in frustration. “I can’t put this into words!” </p>
<p>“What does this have to do with Marinette?” </p>
<p>“N-nothing.” Chloé wondered one again, why she was stalling. If her plan worked, Bustier was going to know everything by the end of day tomorrow anyway. “I was just trying to give you an example where sharing the knowledge of a student being in danger would put them <em>more</em> in danger.” </p>
<p>Ms. Bustier put her hand on Chloé’s shoulder again, and this time Chloé allowed the warmth to remain. “I can appreciate the nuance of such a situation,” her teacher reassured. “I would never put a student in danger if I can help it. You must understand though, sometimes my hands are tied by legal requirements.” <br/><br/>Chloé nodded, figuring that was close enough. Surely, there wasn’t a <em>specific</em> law about teachers being mandated to reveal a superhero’s identity. There had never been enough instances of teenaged superheroes to codify that kind of requirement. </p>
<p>
  <em>Right? </em>
</p>
<p>Ms. Bustier smiled kindly at her. “Is there anything else you want to tell me, Chloé?” </p>
<p>Chloé pursed her lips. “Not really, no,” she concluded. </p>
<p>“May I ask <em>you</em> a question?” </p>
<p>The blonde nodded her assent. </p>
<p>“Why are you doing this now? Trying to make amends with Marinette, I mean?”</p>
<p>Chloé fidgeted nervously. She still didn’t really know how she felt about Marinette. Or about Marinette being Ladybug. But that’s not why she was doing this anyway. “I’m doing it for Adrien,” she finally admitted. “He needs Marinette to actually see him. I don’t know what will happen to him if she doesn’t. I’m really scared for him.”</p>
<p>“It’s not Marinette’s responsibility to save him, you know?” </p>
<p>“Maybe not, but she’ll want to. When she has the full picture she will love him better than anyone in the whole world. And if she doesn’t, I will be there to grind her face into the ground.” </p>
<p>“Chloé…” Ms Bustier chastised disapprovingly.</p>
<p>Chloé held her hands up in mock surrender, but she wasn’t actually sorry. She meant it. If Marinette didn’t learn to better appreciate her partner, Chloé would definitely make certain she regretted it. </p>
<p>…</p>
<p>Chloé walked out of Bustier’s classroom after class feeling more optimistic than she had in the last sixteen days. Ms. Bustier had passed out slips to the five of them requesting their presence at the next day’s lunch period for a restorative circle, which meant this was actually going to happen. </p>
<p>Maybe by end of day tomorrow she would see Adrien’s megawatt smile again for the first time in <em>weeks</em>. </p>
<p>But Chloé still had one loose end to take care of before she was confident that she could push Marinette into being honest. And that loose end involved Alya. And Chloé couldn’t even delegate the task to Sabrina because that would reveal identities to a civilian, and while Chloé was all for pissing Ladybug off, she did understand the danger of too many people knowing. Not to mention, she didn’t want Sabrina in danger more than she had to be. </p>
<p>Sabrina <em>was</em> able to tell her Alya’s whole schedule though. So that was helpful. Chloé left her things with Sabrina with directions to deliver her bags to her car, and left “to go to the bathroom” ten minutes before the last class was over to wait outside Césaire’s 6th period. She was lucky that apparently Marinette didn’t share the class. </p>
<p>Alya was one of the last to leave. But when she walked out the door, Chloé immediately fell into step beside the Ladyblogger. </p>
<p>“I need to talk to you,” Chloé began without preamble. </p>
<p>Alya cast her a dark look. “Why would I want to talk to you?”</p>
<p>Chloé tried not to growl. She was only half successful. “It’s about Marinette. She needs your help.”</p>
<p>“Why should I believe you about anything regarding Marinette?” Alya snapped, readjusting her bag on her shoulder and picking up her speed, not bothering to make eye contact. </p>
<p>Chloé matched her pace easily. “You eat up everything Rossi says about her like a child eats up candy! I thought you’d believe anything,” Chloé shot back. </p>
<p>“This conversation is over,” Alya declared cooly, whirling away. </p>
<p>Chloé scurried after her. “No wait! I’m... I’m sorry.” </p>
<p>That got Alya to pause. “You’re <em>what?</em>”</p>
<p>“You heard me,” the blonde growled back. Chloé wouldn’t say it again. No friggin’ way. “So, are you going to listen now?”</p>
<p>“This has gotta be big if it got the high and mighty Chloé Bourgeois to apologize for something,” Alya reasoned even as she let her bag fall unceremoniously from her shoulder to the ground as she turned to Chloé.</p>
<p>“Marinette needs your help. Adrien does too. But they’ll never come clean on their own and certainly not at <em>my </em>suggestion. I need <em>you</em> to come clean first.”</p>
<p>Alya’s dark eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “Come clean about what?”</p>
<p>“About being the Fox.”</p>
<p>Alya stared at her, her auburn eyes as wide as the Seine. “What?!” she hissed, suddenly up in Chloé’s face.</p>
<p>Chloé held her ground, but didn’t resist Alya getting in her space. “I can’t explain. Ladybug will kill me. But tomorrow, Ms. Bustier is going to pull the five of us together.” </p>
<p>“Five of us?” </p>
<p>“You, me, Nino, Adrien, and Marinette. I’m going to introduce myself as the Bee. I <em>need</em> you to introduce yourself as the Fox. <em>Please!</em> It’s for Adrien... and Marinette too.” She tacked on as an afterthought. “Please trust me as one partime hero to another. I swear, I’m trying to help.”</p>
<p>Alya shook her head, her eyebrows furrowed together like an angry cat. “I <em>won’t</em> betray Ladybug’s trust.”</p>
<p>“You’ll be helping her!” Chloé countered. “And Marinette too.”</p>
<p>“No way, Chloé. You can’t trick me.” And with that, the would-be-journalist stomped off. </p>
<p>Chloé watched her go. “Well, that could have gone worse.” </p>
<p>...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Kids who are victims of abuse or trauma are often the assholes. Like, they are used to people being abusive OR just leaving them to sort it out themselves. The behavior is often a “I will hurt you before you can hurt me” OR a test of “Will you really stick around?” And they make it REALLY hard for you to want to stick around. But if you do stick around, you can potentially nudge a kid’s life trajectory onto a better path.<br/> <br/>As an educator, the trick is to not put up with their bullshit, but also never stop communicating that you care. You have to make it safe to fail or screw up in cruel ways, and it’s still always possible to be redeemed. They are still kids and they are still learning. Failure is the best teacher. But if failure is not allowed, then the learning from that failure cannot happen. <br/> <br/>I don’t claim to have this all figured out, and I’ve definitely been more successful with some kids than others. I am also definitely not privy to everything that happens in my classroom. But if there’s one thing that I’ve learned, the most valuable tool I have is to model to them what acknowledging harm can do. If I can admit to disrespecting them when I accidentally do so, and genuinely apologize for doing so, they almost always try to reciprocate. It often takes more than one conversation. And it’s definitely more challenging because I’m trying to teach them physics at the same time. Ha!</p>
<p>I’m really excited about the next chapter! It’s the one that started this whole thing!  </p>
<p>Thanks for reading. Reviews are love!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Circle Checkin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Five wonderful and amazing teenagers sit in a circle and talk to each other about... things. And okay... there may be some screaming and crying involved. But it's all okay because it works out.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Special thanks to the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenbeegeek/pseuds/thequeenbeegeek">TheQueenBeeGeek </a> for betaing this chapter. She helped a lot with making sure the characters emotional states were shown in more ways than just talking. I am SO GRATEFUL for her insight and help.</p><p>Unrelated, I had another Restorative Justice training just last week. It was an intro to the philosophy with a few pointers for how to implement restorative justice in the virtual learning environment.<br/>And there were a few reminders that served me well: </p><p>1) Restorative Justice is not a program. It is a way of life. And a way of life that I try to follow.<br/>2) Participation in Restorative Practices is always supposed to be completely voluntary<br/>3) During this time of virtual learning, it’s more important than ever! (Even as it is more difficult to implement). So, it’s time to learn and plan new things!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloé’s sat cross legged with her right foot swinging back and forth rapidly. So fast, the white flat fell off her foot into the empty space in the circle of the six chairs Ms. Bustier had set up for their restorative circle. She hadn’t made a centerpiece this time, and Chloé found herself missing the visual anchor point the collection of knick knacks usually provided, and the posters ordaining the back wall from their last research project were not cutting it. And Chloé was desperate for any distraction as her gut felt like a ship trapped at sea during a monsoon. She was trying to ignore the sensation, as she instead glared at the four remaining empty seats anxiously waiting for the others to show up. </p><p>Ms. Bustier put a hand on her shoulder from the seat to her right.</p><p>“It’s okay to be nervous, Chloé,” she said gently. “This is a big step you’re taking. However it goes, I’m proud of you for trying.”</p><p>Chloé scoffed. She would never admit that the words calmed her if only a smidge. Surely, even if Marinette never forgave her, never let Chloé see Pollen again, this would still help the heroine, and by extension, Adrien. And maybe all of Paris. But Chloé could care less about that. </p><p>As if summoned by her thoughts, her childhood friend walked in at that moment. He was a solid ten minutes early, and the knot in her stomach loosened slightly. </p><p>This was going to happen. She was going to do this. </p><p>“Good afternoon, Adrien,” Ms. Bustier greeted warmly. “Thank you for coming today. Feel free to take a seat anywhere in the circle.”</p><p>“Good afternoon, Ms. Bustier. You asked me to come, so I came,” he said with a polite smile. Then he turned to Chloé and his face softened. “Hey Chlo. I told Nathalie to give your butler a call to set something up for us.” He was smiling at her genuinely. And it wasn’t a fake model smile! And that made warmth burst in her chest. He wasn’t mad at her the way he was mad at the others. </p><p>“That’s great, Adri-kins! I can’t wait!” Of course, he wasn’t mad at her. <em>She</em> never kept secrets from him. </p><p>He moved to take the seat next to her until she threw her arms across the wooden seat to block him.</p><p>“No!” she objected. “You can’t sit here!” </p><p>Adrien took a startled step back. “I can’t?” he asked, completely perplexed. Even Ms. Bustier raised her eyebrows in surprise.</p><p>“Césaire needs to sit here,” Chloé announced haughtily, as if her arrogance alone would make her desires a reality. </p><p>It always seemed to work for her mother. </p><p>“Alya?” Ms. Bustier repeated. “Why?” </p><p>“Our circle will go better if Alya sits next to me,” the blonde declared and snapped her lips closed without a word of explanation.</p><p>Her teacher sighed, but didn’t comment, her attention on a purple clipboard in her lap. </p><p>“Umm… okay?” Adrien agreed, but his brows were furrowed together in complete confusion. “What’s our circle about?” he asked. </p><p>“Betrayal,” Chloé told him. </p><p>He laughed. She didn’t. Neither did Ms. Bustier.</p><p>“Oh, you’re serious,” he quickly concluded, his face turning serious. He rubbed the back of his neck like he always did when he felt awkward. “I… I’m uh… I’m ready to listen?” </p><p>“Thank you, Adrien,” the teacher said. “That’s all we can ask.” </p><p>He plodded over to the seat on the other side of the teacher. “So, is it okay if I sit over here?”</p><p>“Certainly!” Chloé beamed, the choppy storm in her stomach calming a bit.</p><p>Marinette entered that at that moment. Or rather, she tripped over the threshold and fell face first onto the classroom floor. She managed to mostly catch herself, but at the cost of dropping her book bag. It hit the ground with a loud thud before sending her notes and pencils scattering across the room. </p><p>Chloé rolled her eyes at the scene. Marinette was <em>so</em> clumsy. To think, <em>this</em> was the defender of Paris.</p><p>The part time hero just laid there for a second. Adrien was already across the room at her side. </p><p>“Marinette!” Ms Bustier called. “Are you alright? </p><p>“Yeah,” she groaned. “I’m fine. Nothing I haven’t experienced ten times before,” she said, her voice flat even as Adrien hauled her to her feet.</p><p>“Uh! Th-thank you!” she stammered, pink blooming across her cheeks as Adrien hauled her to her feet.</p><p>“Think nothing of it,” he told her, his voice calm and polite. But he still wasn’t looking at her.</p><p>Chloé couldn’t help the burst of sadistic satisfaction that burst in her chest that Adrien was mad at his friends and not at her. </p><p>Nino showed up before Marinette had finished collecting her things off the floor. </p><p>Marinette sat next to Adrien without prompting. Nino tried to sit next to Chloé, no doubt to allow his girlfriend to sit next to her best friend.</p><p>Chloé was about to say something, but Ms. Bustier beat her to it. “Nino, would you please sit next to Marinette? That is apparently Alya’s seat.”</p><p>And Chloé was inordinately pleased that Ms. Bustier was just going along with her plan.</p><p>“Oh…” Nino said, dropping his bag onto the seat, and tugging with one arm on his own shoulder. “Umm… I’m not sure she’s coming,” he shared, settling into his seat and adjusting the brim of his red hat. </p><p>“<em>What?</em>” Chloé bit out. </p><p>Nino threw a startled glance in her direction. “Yeah, she said something came up with the twins?” </p><p>“But she has to be here! This won’t work without her!” Chloé objected, storming to her feet with her hands thrown to either side in balled fists.</p><p>Marinette frowned at her. Ms. Bustier put a hand on Chloé’s shoulder to gently urge her to sit back down, which she did.</p><p>But it didn’t help her calm down.</p><p>Ms. Bustier turned her head towards the opposite side of the circle. “Nino, Marinette, can you both please text Alya and tell her that this is really important? And that we would be honored if she was willing to participate?”</p><p>They both whipped out their phones. Chloé did too. </p><p>
  <em>Please!!!!!! I know we’re not friends, but this won’t work without you. I need your help!!!</em>
</p><p>The moments ticked by. </p><p>“Did she respond?” Ms Bustier asked.</p><p>The others shook their heads.</p><p>Chloé gripped the side of her chair. She was going to kill Césaire. She should have known the other girl wouldn’t trust her. She should have come up with a contingency plan.</p><p>Then her phone buzzed. She glanced at it. </p><p>
  <em>I don’t want to betray her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You’ll be helping her!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I might not ever play the flute again.</em>
</p><p>Chloé bit her lip in aggravation. Of all the stupid selfish way-to-miss-the-point objections. </p><p>But… insulting Alya wouldn’t get her to show up.</p><p>
  <em>The girl who gave you your flute is here. </em>
</p><p>There was no response. Her phone said that the message had been delivered. </p><p>The doorway remained empty. </p><p>Ms Bustier cleared her throat. “Chloé, would you like to continue with just the four of us? Or would you like us to reschedule for a day all five of you can attend?” </p><p>Chloé held up one finger. “Give me just a minute. She’ll be here. I swear!” </p><p>“Is Alya texting <em>you </em>back?” Marinette demanded, her furious blue eyes glaring holes into Chloé’s blouse. </p><p>Chloé ignored her in favor of tapping out her text.</p><p>
  <em>She doesn’t know it, but she needs you.</em>
</p><p>Alya’s form filled up the doorway a few seconds later. She had to have been standing outside the whole time. She didn’t step in. Just stood in the open door, her eyes flitting to each person in the circle in turn before landing on Chloé with a dark glare.</p><p>“Alya!” Ms. Bustier greeted. “I’m so glad you could make it after all. Would you please close the door and take a seat?” </p><p>The brunette hesitated for another instant, but then stalked to her seat.</p><p>“What about the twins?” Nino asked her, as she dropped her bag unceremoniously to the floor.</p><p>Only then did her hazel eyes leave Chloé’s form. She smiled brightly at her boyfriend. “Nora said she could make it after all. Sorry to have kept you all waiting.” </p><p>“That’s okay,” Ms. Bustier smiled warmly. “We’ll begin now. Chloé has asked you all here today because she wants to make amends with all of you.”</p><p>Marinette’s bright blue eyes whipped to Chloé and her jaw fell open in shock. </p><p>“<em>Chloé?</em>” she echoed as if the words could not compute. “Wants to make <em>amends?</em>” Marinette’s eyebrows rose into her hairline in shock. Nino just shrugged, and Adrien nodded to her with a small smile. He believed that she could do this. </p><p>Chloé’s cheeks warmed, and she had to look back down into her lap. </p><p>“She could start by dropping the lies,” Alya bit out sarcastically, slumping backwards into her chair. </p><p>Chloé winced. Alya hadn’t figured it out. </p><p><em>Some reporter</em>, Chloé thought scathingly. </p><p>“Which brings us to our usual agreements,” Ms. Bustier cut in before the back and forth could take over. She held up the usual list. “I know tensions may get high in this room before this circle is over. That only makes these norms more important. I want to remind you all specifically to speak and listen with respect. Do you think you can manage that, Alya?” </p><p>The brunette hung her head. “Yes, Ms. Bustier.” </p><p>“I encourage you all to also pay special attention to the “Speak your truth” norm. It is difficult to come to a place of healing if you don’t get everything off your chest first. Are there any questions about that?” </p><p>They all looked at each other as if to see if anyone else would speak. No one did.</p><p>“And last, a reminder that every single one of you needs to respect the talking piece. It will always make a full circle so that after every revelation each of you will have a chance to share your thoughts and feelings. It can make things a bit awkward to wait for the piece to come to you to respond, and we may need a bit of practice if emotions get high. But try to remember to use it and to respect it. Can you all agree to these norms?” </p><p>Chloé was the first to throw her thumb up, but all the others quickly followed suit. </p><p>“So, to begin…” </p><p>“Actually, Ms. Bustier,” Chloé interjected. She could barely hear the words leave her mouth over the roaring in her own ears. Her heart was threatening to stain her black and white striped shirt with red with it’s valiant effort to leap out of her chest. “I was hoping we could start with a circle check-in? I prepared one myself.”</p><p>The others stared at her in disbelief. Chloé never said anything during circles. Not ever. Even Nino had raised an eyebrow at her. Chloé felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She glanced away and her gaze landed on Adrien who was smiling at her in gentle encouragement. She lifted her chin proudly to look at Ms. Bustier straight on.</p><p>“Of course, Chloé. This is our talking piece for the day.” She held up a little stuffed grey tabby kitten. It had black marbles for eyes and a little pink button for a nose. It was rather adorable. “It was a gift from a student last year. She specifically said she wanted it to be as a talking piece because she said it always made her calm. I call her Dottie.”</p><p>Adrien chuckled. Marinette shook her head in disapproval of the silly joke. Chloé shaking with too many nerves to think about silly names. She instead clutched the soft striped kitten to her thudding chest.</p><p>“My prompt is simple. Your name and other…  nicknames or alter egos you go by!” Chloé faced Alya’s glare head on. “I’ll go first.”</p><p>“My name is Chloé, but others know me as Queen Bee.”</p><p>Adrien laughed again. Marinette rolled her eyes. Nino was still a wall that Chloé had never learned to interpret. </p><p>Alya bit her lip. </p><p>Chloé held out the fake kitten to Alya, but she didn’t let go even when the other girl accepted it into her hand. “I didn’t lie,” Chloé told her. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“You said I needed to drop the lies. I didn’t lie,” Chloé said one more time, and let go of the fuzzy talking piece.</p><p>Alya’s dark eyebrows furrowed together as she considered Chloé’s words. She pet the fake kitten as her hazel eyes turned back to the group, and it only took a second when her eyes blew open as wide as the Seine. She turned back to Chloé in shock. </p><p>Chloé nodded. She had won this battle. But that fact did nothing to assuage her nerves. This was actually happening. And her stomach continued to churn. </p><p>Chloé ignored it. </p><p>“Alya?” Bustier prompted. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“Uh... yes... I’m fine. I just...” she took a deep breath. “My name is Alya. And some people call me… Rena Rouge.”</p><p>Chloé wanted croon victoriously, but that would have ruined the dead silence that followed that pronouncement.</p><p>Adrien’s face went blank - white as a ghost. Marinette turned pink, her fists clenched and shaking on her knees, and her eyes flashed, hot with anger. How many times had Chloé seen that look on Marinette’s face? How many times had Chloé been the one to cause it?</p><p>Alya passed the piece to Nino. He held it dumbly for a second, his dark eyes searching his girlfriend’s intently.</p><p>“You sure?” Nino asked her softly. It was good he didn’t look at Marinette who was shaking her head in agitation.</p><p>Alya nodded once.</p><p>Nino turned back to the group with a megawatt smile. Chloé could almost see what Adrien saw in him at that moment. He was so <em>trusting</em>. That’s all it took for him. No arguments. No reasons. Alya’s word was all he needed.</p><p>What would it be like to have a friend like that?</p><p>“My name is Nino. I’m also Carapace.”</p><p>He passed the piece to Marinette who was now shaking with the violence of an active volcano. But for once, Chloé was not on the receiving end of the do-gooder’s rage. Marinette was shooting metaphorical daggers at her best friend. </p><p>“You planned <em>this?</em>” Marinette screeched. Her hands shook so hard it was amazing she hadn’t dropped the talking piece. “With <em>Chloé?!</em>”</p><p>“Marinette, I-” Alya started.</p><p>“She didn’t-” Chloé said simultaneously. </p><p>“Ladies,” Ms Bustier interrupted smoothly. “Marinette has the talking piece. You will have a chance to share your piece, but now it’s your turn to listen.” </p><p>Chloé had to hand it to her. Ms. Bustier was taking the revelations in stride. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, her hands carefully placed on her knee, and all her attention was on Marinette. Her posture gave off only calm. </p><p>“Marinette, you do not have to share. You’re always allowed to pass the piece,” Ms. Bustier told her.</p><p>Chloé held her breath, praying and hoping with every muscle in her body that Marinette wouldn’t derail this whole thing before it even began. </p><p>Marinette said nothing. Her eyes frantically shifted from one corner of the group even as she strangled the stuffed animal in her lap, causing it’s black marble eyes to protrude out. </p><p>“Marinette?” Adrien prompted, turning to her in concern. “Are you okay?”</p><p>Her panicked blue eyes seized on his even as she gulped for air. She opened her mouth but no words came out.</p><p>“Guys, I think she’s having a panic attack!” Adrien exclaimed, jerking his chair back. He kneeled down next to Marinette, but she didn’t look at him. </p><p>She didn’t seem to be looking at <em>anything</em>. Her eyes bugged out, seemingly sightless at the group around her, her face was ghostly pale, and her mouth worked soundlessly like it was searching for air when there was none to be found.  </p><p>Chloé’s chest constricted painfully at the sight, her hands tightened around her chair. She had heard the phrase, ‘’panic attack” so many times in her life, but she hadn’t ever thought it would be like this. Not so physically awful. </p><p>She had never been so frightened. Not when her parents fought, often throwing things at one another in the heat of their arguments - things that broke and shattered. Not when she had been taken hostage by akumas, or had to face Hawkmoth as Queen Bee. </p><p>Because this was <em>Ladybug</em>. </p><p>Reduced to this helpless state through <em>words</em>. </p><p><em>Chloé’s</em> words. Chloé had done this to her. To the heroine of Paris. </p><p>Ms. Bustier stood up and kneeled down in front of Marinette. “Marinette, listen to me. Take my hand.” Marinette seized on it. “Tell me one thing that you can see.” </p><p>“Y-your earrings,” she stuttered out, her blue eyes still overblown and wild. </p><p>“That’s good. What color are they?” Ms. Bustier asked calmly. </p><p>Chloé had no idea why Ms. Bustier was asking these pointless questions, but she was calm, and Chloé took comfort from that.</p><p>“W-w-w…” Marinette couldn’t get the word out. </p><p>“Shhh…” Ms. Bustier soothed. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath. Try again.” </p><p>“White!” she said fiercely. </p><p>And Chloé breathed more easily. That determination. <em>That</em> was what Chloé expected from Ladybug.</p><p>And at that point, Chloé risked a glance at the others in the room. Adrien was biting his own knuckle, his eyes glued to Marinette. Alya and Nino had their hands clasped firmly together, but they were also watching Marinette, their eyes glistening in concern. Ms. Bustier kept asking stupid questions about the room and about what Marinette could feel, and gradually, her eyes cleared and she started breathing normally.</p><p>“There you are,” Ms. Bustier said calmly with a gentle smile. “Are you okay, now?”</p><p>Marinette clutched the stuffed animal into her chest, her eyes still misty, and slowly nodded. “Sorry, I…”</p><p>“None of that,” Ms. Bustier interrupted. “You have nothing to apologize for, Marinette. I think I’m the one that owes <em>you</em> an apology.” </p><p>Startled blue eyes flew upwards. “What for?” </p><p>“When Chloé requested this meeting, she asked me not to interview you beforehand for your side of the story. She said that you would never attend if you knew what it was about.” </p><p>Marinette’s gaze fell to her feet once again. “She’s not wrong,” Marinette admitted in a whisper. </p><p>Ms. Bustier nodded. “Be that as it may, it was still wrong of me to blindside you. I knew better. My training even emphasized to never enter into a restorative circle without talking to each of the affected parties first. So, I definitely knew better, and I allowed myself to be convinced otherwise. That was wrong of me.”</p><p>“Th-thank you,” Marinette stuttered, her gaze glancing downwards. “For saying that. I don’t think a teacher has ever apologized to me before.” </p><p>“I also want you to know that you’re safe. No one here is going to hurt you. No one here is going to make you share anything you don’t want to share.” </p><p>Marinetted sighed before glancing up at the teacher who was still kneeling in front of her. “But you already know,” she accused. </p><p>Ms. Bustier nodded in understanding. “I think I do have a guess at this point, yes. But I don’t <em>know</em> anything. Not for sure. Not until you tell me, and only <em>if</em> you want to. Do you understand?” </p><p>Marinette nodded.</p><p>“I think we should adjourn,” Ms. Bustier announced as she rose to her feet. “And reconvene <em>if</em> you <em>all</em> want to on another day... after we’ve all had some sleep, when you feel more prepared to talk about things? Or we don’t have to meet again if you don’t want to. Your participation here is one hundred percent voluntary.”</p><p>Chloé wanted to object. They were <em>so</em> close.</p><p>But she knew Marinette. Anything <em>Chloé</em> said was likely to make her <em>less</em> willing to talk. </p><p>Marinette hesitated and looked around. “I… actually think we should continue if… if you have time?”</p><p>“Are you sure, Marinette?” Ms. Bustier asked. </p><p>“I just… I can’t go to my next class right now. And if I go home, I’m going to just obsess over this. And I’m going to panic. And I don’t want to be akumatized,” and she broke off into sobs. </p><p>Every muscle in Chloé’s body was tight as the weight of Marinette’s words registered. It had never occurred to the blonde when she orchestrated this that Marinette could be akumatized. </p><p>Angry beyond comprehension? </p><p><em>Absolutely!</em> </p><p>But <em>scared?</em> </p><p>Ladybug was <em>never</em> scared! </p><p>And akumatized? </p><p>Certainly, Ladybug couldn’t <em>be</em> akumatized!</p><p>Chloé had assumed that her miraculous protected her somehow. Sure, the Bee Miraculous didn’t seem to protect her, but… Ladybug was special. </p><p>Wasn’t she? </p><p>But turns out, Marinette was just a normal girl. A girl with feelings and fears and incredibly difficult struggles.</p><p>Nino and Adrien both had reassuring hands on either side of her shoulders, but neither said anything. Marinette’s cries slowly ebbed. </p><p>“If you want us to continue, why don’t you start by telling us how you’re feeling right now?” Ms. Bustier suggested kindly, backing away and moving to her seat within the small circle. “Again, only if you want to.” </p><p>Marinette wiped her eyes, took a breath, and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I feel... betrayed,” she finally said, turning toward Alya. “You’re supposed to be my best friend. I can’t believe you would conspire with <em>Chloé!</em> The person you <em>know</em> has bullied me for years.” </p><p>Chloé flicked a piece of lint off her shoulder, careful to not to look at Marinette and not to let anything show on her face.</p><p>“I mean, it was bad enough when you didn’t believe me about Lila…”</p><p>Alya sucked in a breath at the mention of Lila Rossi, her chin trembling, and her hazel eyes flooding with tears.</p><p>Marinette continued. “But you <em>knew</em> about Chloé and how she’s treated me. And now you’re working <em>with</em> her to corner me?”</p><p>Chloé shook her head in agitation. Marinette was getting it all wrong. Alya hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. “Calm down, Dupain-Cheng,” she interjected impatiently. “It wasn’t like that. Trust me, you’ll-”</p><p>“Chloé, please respect the talking piece,” Ms. Bustier cut in harshly.</p><p>The blonde pressed her lips together. And when Marinette’s icy blue gaze swung to her and pinned her in place, Chloé realized she <em>really</em> shouldn’t have spoken yet. </p><p>“You want me to <em>trust</em> <em>you</em>?” Marinette started, her voice was cold and her eyes flashed, all trace of her shakiness from panic attack had evaporated. Even the redness in her eyes from crying seemed to have vanished. This was Ladybug’s game face when she was ready to squash an akuma. </p><p>And her gaze was locked onto Chloé. </p><p>“When have you <em>ever</em> deserved my trust?” Marinette demanded. “When you bullied me for years after I tried so hard to be your friend? When you stole a miraculous? When you put an entire train of people in jeopardy so that you could pretend to be a hero?”</p><p>Chloé squared her shoulders. This was no different than all the other times Marinette had laid into her.</p><p>
  <em>Wasn’t it though? </em>
</p><p>This time, Chloé was <em>trying to help</em>.</p><p>“And when you were akumatized because Ladybug didn’t bring you back into the team, I felt frustrated that you felt betrayed. Ladybug has to consider the whole well-being of Paris! Not just the feelings of one person. It makes me feel like you can’t see beyond yourself to the greater need. It makes me feel like you don’t understand the responsibility of wielding a miraculous.”</p><p>And now, Chloé could not even pretend to herself that this wasn’t different than every other time Marinette had called her out or challenged her. But Chloé held herself calm and stoic. If there was one thing she had endless practice at, it was taking a verbal beating. </p><p>“And you pulling us into a circle and pressuring miraculous holders to reveal themselves? I again, don’t feel like I can trust you!” </p><p>The rest of it Chloé knew she deserved, but <em>this</em>?! <em>This</em> pissed her off. </p><p>“May I have the talking piece?” Chloé requested, her voice too high and threatening to break beneath her.  </p><p>For a second, Marinette hesitated, but then she passed the piece to Adrien. Chloé watched carefully as the striped kitten exchanged hands from Adrien to Ms. Bustier to Chloé. </p><p>“For the record,” Chloé ground out the second Dottie was in her hand. “I <em>hate</em> circles. This was <em>not</em> my idea. I tried to get you to talk to me just you and me. I tried for <em>weeks</em>! I tried here at school, and I left you private messages and public messages.” Or bee signals. Whatever. Marinette would know what she was talking about. “You chose to ignore me.” </p><p>“Typical Chloé,” Marinette bit out scathingly. “You don’t get your way, and you throw a tantrum.” </p><p>“Marinette,” Bustier interceded. “Speak with respect and respect the talking piece.” </p><p>The girl sighed. “May I have the talking piece?”</p><p>Chloé hesitated. She wasn’t done, but she let it go, passing it to Alya again.</p><p>The second Marinette’s hands were around it, words poured from her. “I just don’t understand why you’re doing this? Are you just trying to torture me? All of this is hard enough without you making it harder!” </p><p>Chloé’s squirmed in her seat, her whole body shook with the effort of having to restrain the words that wanted to burst from her mouth. But she had to hold herself back. It was one of the hardest things Chloé had ever done.</p><p>“And not just now! You’ve singled me out <em>over</em> and <em>over,</em> to the point where no one wanted to be my friend, not because of anything to do with me, but because they didn’t want to be targeted by <em>you!</em>” Marinette raged, her hands literally shaking in front of her. Her eyes were ice, and would have drilled holes through Chloé’s chest had they been able. “You’ve mocked me, you’ve dismissed my voice, and you’ve bullied me for years until I doubted myself and my value. Until I didn’t believe that I had anything worthwhile to say or that anyone should like me. To the point where I dreaded coming to school. And I never understood <em>why!</em> I mean, what did I ever do to you?!"</p><p>"You wouldn't stop bringing me macarons!" Chloé exploded. And everyone was so startled by this admission. All eyes turned to her. Ms. Bustier didn’t even remind her to respect the talking piece. </p><p>"<em>What?</em>" Marinette screeched back in cold disbelief. "You bullied me because I brought you <em>cookies?!</em>"</p><p>Chloé’s whole form quivered in agitation. "I needed you to stop,” she admitted. “And you wouldn't! So I had to get you to hate me."</p><p>"Why did you need me to stop?" Marinette asked, her voice quiet and her dark eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. </p><p>Chloé hunched her shoulders wishing she could hide in a corner. "My own mother doesn't love me. Why would anyone else?" she whispered, her gaze locked on her own pearl white flats. To her horror, her throat closed off and her eyes burned. Before she could cut it off, she was crying. </p><p>She wiped at the tears angrily. She hated crying. </p><p>It ruined her makeup. </p><p>"E-everyone leaves eventually. My mom left. Adele left…” Chloé glanced up across the circle. “Adrien left,” she added softly.</p><p>A hiss of displeasure erupted from the blond boy two seats away.</p><p>“No one ever stays,” Chloé continued. “I'm not worth it. It’s better if I never let myself hope that they will."</p><p>Shocked silence flooded the room, only broken by Chloé’s sniffs. </p><p>Some small part of Chloé felt free with the admission. These were words she had never before said out loud. The larger part of her felt embarrassed that she had let <em>Marinette,</em> of all people, goad her into admitting any vulnerability. And then another part that hated that she was crying in front of anyone. </p><p>Tears were a weakness. If they saw her tears, they would know they could destroy her. </p><p>Ms. Bustier cleared her throat before speaking. "That was very brave of you to share, Chloé."</p><p>Chloé cried harder. Adrien broke the circle at that point, leaping across the circle. His arms wrapped around her like a warm blanket. “I’m so sorry, Chlo,” he whispered into her hair. “I didn’t understand.”</p><p>“It’s fine, Adri-kins,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “I didn’t understand it either.” Then, she pulled away and stubbornly wiped the tears from her face. “We haven’t even started yet. Go sit back down.” </p><p>He didn’t move immediately, instead staring at her in concern. </p><p>“Please?” </p><p>He nodded, and moved back to his seat.  </p><p>Chloé turned her attention back to the circle, back to Marinette. </p><p>They stared at each other for a second before Marinette handed the kitten once again to Adrien, nodding toward Chloé as she did so.</p><p>And Chloé couldn’t fight the warmth she felt at the gesture. Marinette wanted to hear what she had to say. </p><p><em>Ladybug</em> wanted to hear what she had to say.</p><p>When Ms. Bustier handed her the stuffed animal, Chloé didn’t immediately speak. She instead fiddled with the soft toy in her hands, hoping the kitten would give her some inspiration.</p><p>But at the end of the day, only Chloé could tell her own story. </p><p>“Maybe I didn’t handle a miraculous falling into my lap very well,” Chloé admitted, “but it was the first time in my whole life I realized that I could be something more. Something meaningful. And yeah, I was an idiot. Too impatient for an opportunity to prove myself, I created one. Not my finest moment. </p><p>“As for not being disappointed that Ladybug benched me? I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make myself not feel that way. I feel like Ladybug dangled a way forward for me and then she took it away.” </p><p>Marinette inhaled sharply, but Chloé couldn’t look at her. She stared at her own feet. </p><p>“And I know it’s not her responsibility to save my soul or whatever,” Chloé continued rapidly, “but I looked up to her. And the idea that she might see some small speck of potential in me, that she let me fight beside her as her partner when Chat Noir was incapacitated, that she trusted me with a miraculous even after I had already proven I did not deserve it… it meant a lot.” And honestly, it meant even more when Chloé had realized who Ladybug was. Because Marinette had more reasons than most anyone to hate her. </p><p>“As for bringing you all here and pressuring you to come clean?” Chloé looked up then and stared at Marinette unflinchingly. “I do <em>not</em> apologize for that. When I figured you all out, I wasn’t going to say anything. My family was targeted! I was manipulated so easily. I understand the importance of keeping identities secret in a way that I absolutely didn’t in the beginning of all this.” </p><p>They were all staring at her in rapt attention, but Chloé found herself unfazed. She had momentum now. It would be harder to stop than it would be to just keep going. </p><p>“But two weeks ago, in our circle you were whining about breaking under too much responsibility. That you felt alone. That you were scared someone else would pay the price if you slipped. Since then, you have fallen asleep during class multiple times and you’ve woken up screaming. Separately, you have broken down in class several times. You are drowning. You need support.” Then Chloé pointed dramatically at her childhood friend, but her blue gaze never left the Marinette’s face. “Adrien is also drowning.” </p><p>“I’m fine,” Adrien interjected with a frown.</p><p>Chloé’s blue eyes flashed to him. “Shut up, Adri-kins. You are not fine. I’ve watched you withdraw. I’ve watched you paste on that stupid model smile. I’ve watched you absorb hurt after hurt when your friends don’t trust you, or don’t see you.”</p><p>Nino’s head snapped up at this. “W-what?” he gasped.</p><p>Even Marinette threw a startled look in his direction. </p><p>He shrank under Chloé’s impatient glare before turning to the rest of the group with a shrug. “She’s kinda right,” he admitted with a hand to his neck. </p><p>“You’re withdrawing from… us?” Nino asked with a slight tremor, gesturing to himself, Alya and Marinette. </p><p>Adrien grimaced. “Sorry,” he offered. </p><p>Chloé rolled her eyes. Of course, Adrien would feel guilty for hurting his friends by admitting they were hurting him.</p><p>“There’s clearly a lot for us all to talk about here,” Ms. Bustier interjected. “Let’s focus on one thing at a time, and we’ll come back to this, okay Nino?”</p><p>Nino adjusted his hat, and then nodded. </p><p>Ms. Bustier turned back to her. “Chloé, you were saying?” </p><p>”Umm… right,” Chloé slipped a blonde strand of hair behind her ear, and looked up again at the girl across the circle. At the girl she had been terrified to befriend, at the girl she had tortured for years instead, and at the girl who had made Chloé believe that maybe… just maybe, Chloé could do something good. “Marinette, when I tried to talk to you over and over this last week, I was trying to help. And I’m clearly rubbish at helping, but Ms. Bustier suggested that maybe I was the one that needed help.</p><p>“I know that you don’t trust <em>me</em>,” Chloé said, surprised at the pressure building in her throat at the admission. She waved dramatically to the rest of the circle. “But everyone here besides me <em>is</em> someone you trust and have trusted. I already know and I haven’t said anything! I didn’t even tell Alya when I asked her to do this. She didn’t want to. She said she would never betray Ladybug. I think she changed her mind when she figured it out only a few minutes ago. I’m forcing your hand, yes. But whether you believe me or not, I’m trying to help you.”</p><p>Blue eyes from the other side of the circle pierced through her. Marinette looked like she was going to cry again, but maybe it was a different kind of cry than the one before. </p><p>“I’m asking you to be brave, Dupain-Cheng. Like you are like all of the fucking time. So that you, and all of us can support each other through the crazy things we have experienced.” </p><p>She passed the piece to Alya again. And now that Chloé wasn’t talking, she could feel how badly she was shaking. </p><p>Ms. Bustier put a hand on her knee and squeezed. Chloé looked up into the eyes of her teacher who was smiling at her. And was she crying, too? </p><p>Why was she crying? </p><p>“M-Marinette,” Alya interrupted her thoughts. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to corner you. I just wanted you to know you’re not alone. That I always want to have your back. I’m sorry that I have clearly already failed in that in more than one way. And I hope you can forgive me.” Alya’s voice cracked on the final word, and she immediately shoved the talking piece into Nino’s hands.</p><p>He rubbed his girlfriend’s back even as he passed the stuffed kitten to Marinette with a gentle smile and a wink. </p><p>Marinette flipped the piece in her hands over and over again. “Alya, you’re already forgiven on both counts. Our friendship is stronger than all that,” she said with a bright smile. Then she turned towards Chloé. “Chloé, I didn’t realize how much I was hurting. I didn’t think anyone had noticed. I feel so invisible so much of the time. I… am surprised that you were the one to see through me. I feel like there’s so much more I should say to you after everything you shared, but I guess I should start with the one thing you want me to say.” </p><p>She turned to everyone at the group and smiled nervously. “I suspect like all of you already know, but my name is Marinette, but most of Paris knows me as Ladybug.”</p><p>She held the piece to Adrien, but he didn’t take it. His green eyes had blown as wide as the Seine, staring at her like he’d just been hit by a bus.</p><p>“I... What?!” he spluttered. “I thought you were Multimouse!"</p><p>Marinette frowned at him. "Umm... how would you know that? Only one person knows that."</p><p>He looked sheepish, and plucked the still offered talking piece from her hands. </p><p>"My name is Adrien, but I’m also... Chat Noir.”</p><p>Chloé rolled her eyes. Had they seriously not realized where this was going before Marinette had freaked out?! Sheesh! </p><p>Marinette shook her head furiously. “No, no, no, no! You’re Aspik,” she told him. </p><p>Adrien rubbed the back of his neck even as he smiled sadly at her. “Yeah, that didn’t work out so well, did it?”</p><p>Marinette’s blue eyes flooded with tears once again and she immediately threw her arms around his shoulders. “Chaton! I’m so sorry!” she cried. </p><p>His arms wrapped around her narrow waist. “What for?” he asked softly. </p><p>“You were trapped in that loop for months because of me!” </p><p>He clutched her to him harder. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t have all the information. I was the idiot that accepted the miraculous. I should have said no immediately. I… I just wanted a chance to impress you. As me.”</p><p>She jerked back and looked up into his face. “I was already impressed. With both of you!” </p><p>“Were you?” he asked, the pain clear in his voice.<br/>
<br/>
She threw herself at him again. “Yes!” she insisted into his neck. “I’m so sorry you ever felt otherwise. I’ll make it up to you.”</p><p>He smiled and let his head fall onto hers. “I can’t believe you’ve been right in front of me this whole time,” he admitted, grinning like an idiot.</p><p>Chloé wouldn’t say it out loud. Not for a long time anyway, but they were rather cute all blushing and smiling in each other’s arms. </p><p>But they were also getting distracted. Because this stupid fucking circle wasn’t finished yet. There was still so much more to talk about. She cleared her throat dramatically. </p><p>Marinette shot out of Adrien’s arms, her flushed cheeks turning as red as her alterego’s suit.</p><p>“Chloé!” Alya hissed, her phone out filming the exchange. “You’re ruining it!”</p><p>Chloé harrumphed. She had ruined nothing! She should get all the credit for this.</p><p>…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wanted to share a little anecdote of restorative justice in action. This story is a little vague on purpose, but the essence is there, I promise. </p><p>I taught at a tiny high school for several years (400 students). We had two students – boys. They had a history of getting into fights with one another in middle school and the middle school recommended we keep them completely separated. (Hard to do when there’s only 100 students per grade!). We kept them in separate classes every year, and overall, we had no issues for several years. </p><p>Partway through their junior year, they broke out into a fist fight during lunch. We managed to separate them without anyone getting permanently injured. Then we spoke to each one of them separately and asked them why they hated each other.</p><p>The first boy shared some trauma that his family had shared, and then described the comments the second boy had made to him (which he still remembered like five years later in excruciating detail!) when he was in middle school, and how it brought all that trauma up. He knew the second boy didn’t know of his background, but he still always felt attacked by him. </p><p>So then we go talk to the other boy, and I couldn’t believe it, but he told us the exact same story! (different trauma and different bullying comments). He hated the first boy for the same reasons! </p><p>We coached them before hand and encouraged them to explain to each other WHY their comments hurt the other so much since we realized that they didn’t know one another’s background at all! Neither had been aware why their comments had hurt the other so much. They both had felt like victims only. </p><p>At the end of the restorative circle they were both crying and hugging, and their senior year they were the best of friends, and their two friend groups merged together as well. It was beautiful. </p><p>In many ways, that experience is the seed that inspired this story. </p><p>Thanks for reading. Reviews are love!</p>
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